


Warmth

by wincesthart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 20:43:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8911252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincesthart/pseuds/wincesthart
Summary: Dean's always cold.





	

When Dean wakes up it's to an empty bed. A thin beam of light rests on the pillow beside him and he follows it over to the window. Thick curtains are keeping the rest of the light at bay, turning the room into a murky blue color that makes Dean feel colder than he already is. He glances at the clock besides his bed. 5:47. He stretches, not ready to leave the warmth of the thick quilts he's wrapped up in, but he grumbles and gets up.

He's dressed in an old gray sweatshirt, some worn sweatpants with the Stanford emblem on the front left pocket and a thick pair of socks with a hole in the heel that makes him cold every time he steps on the hardwood floor.

He doesn't hear any noise coming from down the hallway, not even Sam muttering to himself, which he does sometimes when he's alone. The bedroom door is cracked open just the slightest bit so he pulls it open further, slips through and pads down the hallway.

He gets to the main room and finds Sam sitting directly in front of the fireplace, reading, his back pressed to the brick mantle and the fire withering down to embers now behind him. He glances up when Dean walks closer and the corner of his mouth pulls up in a tiny smile.

Dean sits down beside him, pressed so closely together that they leave no space between them at all. Sam doesn't seem to mind. Dean tips his head to rest it on Sam's shoulder, blankly reading the words on the page Sam's on but not retaining any of it.

"You left me," Dean mumbles as he listens to Sam's slow, even breathing. Sam presses his cheek to the top of Dean's head and Dean can feel him smile.

"I know," Sam says softly, "I'm sorry. Didn't wanna wake you up."

Dean touches his hand to Sam's thigh and feels hot skin through Sam's pajama pants. They both continue to read in silence, Dean's foot knocking against Sam's distractedly and Sam playing along and knocking him back. Dean feels himself start to doze off and Sam wraps an arm tight around his waist. He's so warm and it only makes Dean feel sleepier.

Sam only stirs Dean awake when he offers to make coffee and Dean starts up the fire again while Sam's gone. He comes back with two hot mugs and Dean takes one gratefully, sitting cross-legged on the rug and staring at the fire. Sam sits beside him, legs stretched out and feet kicking at the brick.

"Gigantor," Dean mutters into his mug before taking a sip, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see if Sam heard him. Judging from the look on Sam's face; he did.

When his coffee is gone, Dean sets his mug aside and presses up close to Sam, nuzzles at the corner of his jaw. He smells like after shave and peppermint and sleep.

"Smell good," Dean mumbles and Sam turns to kiss him. He has coffee breath, Dean knows he does, too, but he kisses him anyway, slow and sweet. It gets more heated when Sam cradles the back of Dean's head, slips his tongue past Dean's lips, showing Dean what he wants. Dean opens for him easily, moans around it, can never resist his brother, and let's Sam push him back into the rug.

Sam settles between Dean's legs and grinds their hips together, cocks pressing together through layers of fabric. Sam goes to pull Dean's sweatpants off but Dean protests.

"I thought you wanted to," Sam says, a little confused.

"Dude, its cold! Go get the stuff first and then you can take off my pants."

Sam smiles as he gets up off the floor, the tent in his pants very obvious and Dean almost considers telling Sam to just fuck him without any lube at all, but Sam's already walking down the hall, calling back, "those are my pants, by the way." Dean smiles and watches the fire as he waits. 

When Sam comes back he's pouring lube over his fingers, probably making a mess on the wood floors as he goes, but Dean can't be bothered to complain right now.

Sam settles back between Dean's legs, right where he belongs, Dean thinks, and sits up on his knees.

"Okay," Sam says, voice deep, "take off your pants."

Dean does it slow, lifts his hips to get the elastic band over them, slides them over his thighs and down his calves until he can toss them to the side. Sam looks hungry, eyes dark and looming and Dean feels powerful and so turned on. He spreads his legs wide, shivers slightly as he holds them in the air to give Sam a good view and Sam actually whimpers.

"C'mon, big boy," Dean breathes, smiling wickedly and Sam gets closer. He leans over Dean, one hand flat on the ground above Dean's shoulder and the other hidden between Dean's legs. They're staring, eye to eye, as Sam pushes a slick finger inside and starts fucking him, so slow. Dean wraps loose fingers around his cock, stroking himself to the pace Sam has set and giving a weak moan, letting his eyes lose focus as he watches his brother above him.

Dean can feel Sam studying him, watching his face intently. He knows the signs, knows when Dean's ready for more and he adds a second finger when Dean bites his lip. He crooks his fingers in just the right spot and makes Dean spasm, makes Dean close his eyes as a rush of heat goes through him.

It's not much longer before Sam's cock is poking at his entrance, sliding inside and opening Dean up. Dean arches up off the floor and Sam's hands slip inside Dean's warm sweatshirt and press to his spine, feeling the curve of it. Sam's skin is so warm, warmer than anything else he's ever felt.

Dean's grabbing at Sam's shirt, his hair, his ass, anything to get Sam closer to him, to get Sam to give him more. Sam's hands are sliding all over Dean's heated skin under his sweatshirt, finally landing on his shoulders to pull him down on every thrust. Dean's legs are high in the air and he doesn't even feel the slightest bit cold anymore, all he feels is heat and slick and Sam. Dean's biting down on his lip, breathing hard and letting little whimpers through.

"Don't," Sam says suddenly. Dean's eyes fly up to meet Sam's. The side of his face is glowing orange from the fire and his eyes are nearly black. "Don't do that," Sam pants, "wan-wanna hear- you."

Dean lets his lip slip from his teeth and pants open mouthed as he watches Sam above him, eyes locked together as they move. Dean lets out a moan each time Sam hits his prostate and that seems to encourage Sam, because he angles his hips, starts pounding into that same spot and starts making Dean fall apart. Dean's moans turn into sharp, cut-off cries and he can't hold on any longer, lets his eyes fall shut as he bares his throat, arches his back. He's so close...

"Fuck," Sam breathes and moves faster, getting himself there, too. He runs his lips over Dean's throat, runs his hands up and down Dean's spine and then makes a choked-off noise and comes. Dean follows him at the first feeling of Sam's come inside him, warm and wet. They shake as they come together, riding their orgasms out, Sam fucking Dean through it.

They collapse together, Sam's face pressed into Dean's neck and Dean's legs wrapped around Sam's waist, both shivering as they hold each other, breathing hard and ragged.

It takes a while for them to come down but by the time they do, Sam's resting his head on Dean's chest and Dean's absently running his fingers through Sam's hair, both of them watching as the fire starts dying down again.  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where they are. I guess holed up in some cabin somewhere. 
> 
> Also, I'm bad at titles sorry.
> 
> I proof read a few times but I probably missed stuff so sorry for any typos.


End file.
